


Rainbow Road

by bakababe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Domestic Boyfriends, M/M, Mario Kart, Sloppy Makeouts, dirk resenting being a n00b, gratuitous fluff, jake pwning n00bs, terrible puns, wii remote violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakababe/pseuds/bakababe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk and Jake attempt to play a friendly game of Mario Kart. What could possibly go wrong (besides everything)?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainbow Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kylobe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylobe/gifts).



> Hello friends!! I am back again and I apologize for knocking my two fav boys characterizations so far off course they are in the andromeda galaxy
> 
> i willingly choose inaccuracy for the sake of fluff any day
> 
> this was inspired by megs peRFECT headcanons!! meg has the best headcanons i have no idea how they come up with them?? maybe its maybelline 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!! please comment i love comments ;-;

    “Jesus dicking Christ. This is such utter bullshit.”

    Dirk threw his controller down in one dramatic sweep of his arms, watching the Wii remote bounce pitifully on the carpet. He tugged at the tight blond curls of his hair in annoyance.  Yoshi (the smug little bastard) was doing his shitty victory dance on the TV screen while Luigi stared at the scaly rump of the round’s first place holder, shoulders slumped dejectedly.

     _Get in line buddy_ , Dirk thought to himself. _You’re not the only one feeling like a grade A chump around here. Fucking hell._

    “What was that about beginner’s luck, Strider?”         

    Dirk refused to acknowledge the waggling eyebrows of one Jake English, mocking grin just noticeable out of his peripheral vision. Jake put his controller down and stretched his muscled arms out in front of him, grunting in satisfaction at his popping spine.

    “We’ve been at this for quite some time now. What do you say to occupying ourselves with something a little more intimate?” he asked, cocking a brow in Dirk’s general direction.

    Dirk decided to ignore the innuendo offered by his beefcake boyfriend, mind refusing to entertain the thought of sloppy makeouts in favor of salvaging what little remained of his pride.

    “No. Sit your plush rump the fuck back down; Rainbow Road’s the tie breaker.”

    Jake blinked from behind his square frames, a slow smirk unfurling at Dirk’s furrowed brow. He threw a warm arm over his shoulder, chucking into the nape of his neck as Dirk’s spine curled.

    “You’re just going to get more wound up when you lose, love.” he said, peppering Dirk’s freckled shoulder with a line of quick kisses, dragging his thick fingers over Dirk’s loose t-shirt, stretching the fabric thin and allowing the heat from his larger hands to seep into dark skin.

    “You seem pretty confident for someone who just held his first Wii remote two hours ago,” Dirk snorted into his boyfriend’s hair, burying his nose into the coarse locks. Jake nipped at Dirk’s skin with his ridiculously sized enamels in reply. Dirk shoved him off with an undignified yelp.

    “Jesus _fuck_ , keep those chompers to yourself, you oversized buffoon.”

    Jake leaned back and fluttered his eyelashes while looking wounded, fingers retracting from his boyfriend’s shoulder to fist the material covering his chest as if to counteract chest pain.

    “I’m hurt, Dirk. Your words cut sharper then any katana ever could. I surely don’t know how I’ll pluck up the courage to face you on this multicolored racetrack from hell,” he moaned dramatically, and Dirk rolled his eyes and stretched out a leg, nudging Jake in the thigh with his heel.

    Jake captured the wayward foot and swept his thumb over the arch, humming in appreciation as Dirk let out a pleased grunt.  Jake continued to massage Dirk’s foot as the blond pulled up the character select screen, once again choosing Luigi. Jake tweaked Dirk’s toes one last time before reaching over and picking up his discarded controller, hovering his cursor over Yoshi.

    “To be honest, Strider, I’m surprised you don’t play as the Princess.”

    “Don’t you dare-“

    “Considering you’re such a peach,” Jake giggled while Dirk moaned and shook his head, covering his face with his thin hands in mock embarrassment.

    “I can’t believe I kiss that mouth. I’m probably going to catch your goober disease and start watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang while commenting on how ‘Capital!’ the entire production is. Such a peach,” Dirk griped.

    Jake snorted out his amusement at Dirk’s whining and the Strider couldn’t quite stop the upward twitch of his mouth in affectionate appreciation at the sound. It wasn’t as if Jake never laughed, but Dirk always felt warmth spread in the pit of his belly whenever he was the one to bring out the graceless chortles from Jake’s mouth.

    Instead of smooching the laugh right out of said goober boyfriend, he half mindedly watched Jake stifle his chuckles into his scabbed knees before stealthily selecting their predestined course. Jake finally removed his head from the forest that is his lower limbs when he heard the beeping of the starting line count down.

    “You weren’t even going to tell me we were starting, were you, you absolute snake,” he scowled, and Dirk smirked, the corner of his mouth almost reaching his shades.

    “Nope. If you fall behind because you were busy choking on your tongue, that’s your own damn fault.”

    The horns blared and Dirk blasted ahead, Jake forgetting to rev his engine and falling behind Waluigi in a pathetic start to the race.

    “I think someone started to brag a little bit too early, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. English?”

    Mr. English didn’t bother to give a response, tongue poking out from behind his teeth while his thick brows pulled down behind the grandfatherly rims of his frames. He stared at the screen intensely; body swaying slightly with the movements of his vehicle and shoulders tensing up visibly as he narrowly dodged Dirk’s sneakily placed banana peel.

    “Don’t – kringle _fucking_ Christ- count your chickens before they hatch, Strider. This is only the –yesss!- first lap.”

    Dirk glanced at the lower screen sharply at Jake’s hissed exclamation, cursing loudly as Yoshi transformed (once again) into Bullet Bill.

    “This is such bullshit. There’s no fucking way you can get Bullet Bill that often. Hal just crunched the numbers, and he concluded that there was ‘No fucking way.’  Did you up down up down left right me? Did you look at the GameFAQs?” Dirk deadpanned, half turning his torso to glower at Jake over pointed rims. Jake barely managed to tear his eyes away from the screen for a millisecond to notice, too busy squirming in glee at his newly acquired second place.

    “I would say no, considering I have no idea what kind of shenanigans you just referenced. But may I just remark that I am not a huge fan of your new cologne? Smells too much like sour grapes,” Jake said, snorting out a laugh at his own terrible joke, and Dirk lobbed a blue shell at him in retribution.

    “Jesus, you are such a shmuck. Wipe that drool from your mouth, and get ready for the final lap,” Dirk said, rolling his shoulders in anticipation.

    Jake fingered the edges of his full mouth in confusion, kicking Dirk hard in the side when his fingers come away spit free.

    “Jesus, take off your shoes. We’re inside the house, you uncultured swine,” he complained.

    Jake didn’t reply, but dug the heel of his boot farther into Dirk’s ribs, causing him to tip over on the carpet and Luigi to swan-dive off the track, pitiful Italian accent fading into the distance.

    Dirk silently and calmly paused the game swiftly before Luigi can be dropped down somewhere between fifth and dead last place. He turned blazing eyes onto his boyfriend before pouncing with a sharp cry, spidery fingers digging into the soft skin of Jake’s middle and tickling mercilessly.

    “St-strider! Gerroff me! Oh shoot, ffffffuck!” Jake was rolling around on the ground, controller jammed somewhere behind his back and digging into the notches of his spine. Dirk didn’t let up even after Jake started wheezing pathetically, tortured curses and flailing limbs shuttering down to puffs of laughter and cries of “Uncle! Uncle! Jesus, Dirk, it _hurts_!”

    Dirk didn’t let his face muscles twitch beyond a smirk, and when Jake stopped kicking his legs and digging his knees into Dirk’s ribs, the blond slowly meandered down his torso, lifting up Jake’s Boondock Saints shirt and blowing a raspberry on the pudge of his tummy. Jake jerked upright at the feel of air on his skin and yanked painfully on Dirk’s bleached curls until his mouth detached from his navel. Dirk crossed his hands across Jake’s chest and rested his chin on his knuckles, thin fingers trailing through the coarse hairs on his boyfriend’s chest while Jake ran thick fingers through springy curls, swooshing them every which way and chuckling as they sproinged back into place above Dirk’s raised brows.  

    “You are such a cheat, Strider. I feel as if I’ve been bamboozled into dating someone as ungentlemanly as you,” Jake grumbled.

    “You started it, English. I was happy as a clam to be playing my innocent game for kids until you dug your dinosaur sized feet into my very bruised ribs.”

    “There were small dinosaurs, Dirk. Your metaphor is falling apart.”

    “Oh, snap. Jake English just took me to fucking school. Dropped me off at the bus stop and smacked me on my lil’ kindergarten behind. Waved all sorrowfully as the big yellow bus took kiddie Dirk to school for chumps, where I just got a wedgie by the biggest 6 year old your grandma has ever seen. Took me behind the bleachers and—”

    Dirk’s long winded rant was cut off by Jake jerking his head up, smashing their lips together with a pained grunt as teeth clacked uncomfortably. Dirk shifted his head to ease the going, and Jake turned the same way, noses smushing into one another.

    “You’re turning the wrong way,” Jake mumbled against Dirk’s thinner lips, and Dirk pulled back, eyebrow rising over his shades.

    “You’re turning the wrong way. Where the hell did that come from?”

    “No, you turn to the right. Trust me, Strider, I am the professor in sloppy make outs.”

    “You’ve only made out with me, point not taken. Where the hell did that come from?”

    “That’s how they kiss in the movies!”

    “In the movies, Jesus Christ. Is this some shitty manga where you do shit backwards? Slow down there, friend! You are starting from the wrong direction; flip to the back to read some chick get railed by tentacles.  Tilt your goddamn head,” Dirk voice slipped into a murmur as his lighter fingers nudged Jake’s cheek to the side, and Dirk closed the distance without the nasal collision this time. Jake tasted like Gatorade and the dry cereal he was eating, and Dirk nudged a piece of Oats that got stuck in his teeth with his tongue.

    “Brush your goddamn teeth, I keep finding things in your gaping maw.”

    “Sorry, I didn’t know we’d be playing tonsil hockey! And you have popcorn kernels stuck in yours, so just shut up and swap spit.”

    Dirk leans in with a huff, weaving knobby fingers into Jake’s hair and sliding his mouth over the others fuller mouth. Jake began to hum the melody from Rainbow Road into the other’s mouth, and Dirk bit down on his lower lip in punishment before soothing the hurt with his tongue.

    Dirk pulled back minutely, lips brushing softly over the others as he huffed a sigh into Jake’s mouth.

    “You’re such a dweeb.”

     Jake didn’t reply besides a brief chortle, raising warm fingers to slip off Dirk’s pointy shades, leaving them to reflect the light of the dimming TV screen from their place on the floor, the slowly fading out screen prompting them “Continue…?” 


End file.
